


Pull Me Back From The Brink

by Wolfling



Series: You Still Have Me [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Stilinski Family Feels, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling/pseuds/Wolfling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had figured the scenting would probably gradually stop over time, but so far it seemed like the exact opposite was happening. Whenever Scott would get agitated or upset, Stiles would find himself getting sniffed, whether it had anything to do with him or not. And it always seemed to calm Scott down. Stiles was starting to feel like a security blanket or....</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull Me Back From The Brink

Stiles had mixed feelings about his first day back at school after everything. On one hand he kind of desperately needed some sort of normality in his life right now and if nothing else school fit that bill. And he _liked_ schoolwork, which was definitely a good thing considering how much of it he had to catch up on. 

On the other hand, he really wasn't looking forward to finding out what the rumor mill made of his absence, complete with the several BOLO's there'd been for him when he'd been officially missing. At least he was pretty sure the fact that he'd been committed briefly to Eichen House had remained confidential, though he was equally sure a lot of people were just going to assume he was crazy and had some kind of nervous breakdown anyway. Which, hey, was still better than what actually had happened so he guessed he could take it.

Either way, he was pretty sure he was going to be getting stared at and whispered about a lot. He could handle it, but it still wasn't something he'd volunteer for if he'd had the choice.

And it wasn't like he was going to be without support. He had Lydia, who could understand better than anyone could what coming back to school after experiencing a bout of supernatural induced crazy was like, and who had become one of his closest friends. Kira too, though objectively they still didn't know each other that well yet. 

And of course he had Scott. He always had Scott and that alone was enough to give him courage in most situations. No matter what happened Scott would have his back, this he knew.

But thinking about his friends made it impossible not to think about the ones that weren't going to be there. Isaac had left the day before with Mr. Argent for France, taking the triskelion box holding the trapped nogitsune with them. Stiles was breathing easier knowing that thing was far far away from him now, but he kind of wished they could have sent it away and kept the people. Even though Isaac and his main form of communication had been arguing they'd still be friends of a sort and, more importantly, pack mates. There was an Isaac shaped hole in the pack now although everyone understood why he'd chosen to leave.

Which brought him to the other absence, the one that cut the deepest. Allison. Going back to school and not having her there, not seeing her in the halls or at lunch or in class, was going to drive home all over again that she was gone. And that made it hurt all the more.

As bad as it was for him though, he knew it was worse for others. Allison had been Lydia's best friend; Stiles couldn't even imagine what she was feeling. He knew he'd go freaking crazy for real if Scott ever died.

_Scott._ He was the main reason Stiles was going back to school now even if he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to. There was no way though that he was going to let Scott face alone his first day back to school after losing Allison.

As hard as all the reminders of her being gone were going to be for Stiles, he knew it was going to be so much worse for Scott. And more than that -- everyone knew that Scott and Allison had been a couple and had still been close even after they broke up. Which would mean that everyone was going to be weird around him -- watching him, but not really approaching him or, if they did, offering condolences that will only make it hurt more. Stiles knew. Stiles had been through it when his mom died. 

One of the reasons he'd managed to get through that was because he'd had Scott by his side, doing whatever he could to make things a little easier. So Stiles was bound and determined to be there for Scott now, even if it meant pushing his own recovery a little faster than he maybe wanted to.

And hey, at least his own personal drama would probably distract at least some of the gawkers from gawking at Scott.

Thinking about all of that and dealing with the nerves about going back, along with leftover nogitsune trauma induced nightmares meant that Stiles was awake obscenely early that morning and was already up and dressed by the time his dad had knocked on his bedroom door and looked in to wake him.

"I'm up, I'm up," Stiles said before his dad could say anything, gesturing down at his dressed and as put together as he ever was state.

Dad frowned at him. 

"What?" Stiles asked, trying for innocent and missing by a mile. He knew why his dad was frowning.

"Did you get any sleep?" Dad asked, glancing over at his bed which Stiles had made about a half hour before in a fit of nervous energy so he didn't even have rumbled sheets as proof.

"I did," Stiles insisted. "Maybe not as much as I probably should, but I've survived on less." He held up a hand to forestall the protest he could see forming. "To clarify, I've survived on less when I wasn't being mentally and emotionally tortured by an evil fox spirit. I'll be fine."

Dad came in and sat on the bed beside him, looking serious. "You know you don't have to go back yet if you don't feel ready, right?"

Stiles nodded. "I know. But... I kind of do."

"Stiles-" his dad began, shaking his head, but Stiles cut him off.

"I don't think I'm ever going to feel ready, not a hundred per cent," he said. "I'm ready enough. As for the rest, I just got to fake it till I make it, y'know?" That had kind of become his motto in the last week. It was either that or stayed curled up in his bed for the next month, which he couldn't afford. He had things to do. He needed to be there for his friends that were left. He needed to be there for Scott.

"Besides," he continued, deciding it wasn't a bad idea to let his dad in a little on his thought processes, "this is Scott's first day back since Allison... I can't let him face that alone, Dad."

Dad sighed and nodded, reaching out and pulling him into a hug. Stiles went willingly because Dad hugs were always going to be on his list of best things ever and he was never going to turn one down. "You're a good friend, kid," Dad said.

Unbidden, the memory of how the hilt of the sword had felt in his hand when he'd twisted it in Scott flashed through his mind. He buried his face in his dad's shoulder, blocking out the remembered smell of Scott's blood with the scent of his dad's aftershave, which had always smelled like comfort to Stiles.

"I'm trying to be," he said, his voice coming out a lot smaller than he'd meant it to.

Dad just hugged him tighter.

When he finally let go, Dad asked, "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

Stiles shook his head. "Too nervous," he admitted.

"I get that," Dad said. "Still, you should try to eat something. Day's probably going to be hard enough without having to face it on an empty stomach."

He knew his dad was right. Besides, he really couldn't afford to be skipping any meals right now. He was still trying to regain the weight he'd lost during the whole possession ordeal. Apparently strife and chaos weren't very high on calories.

"Okay," he said. "I'll grab some fruit or something." Something he could take with him and eat when things -- like his stomach -- had settled a little more.

For a moment it looked like Dad was going to press the point, but then Stiles could practically see him decide it wasn't worth the conflict. It made Stiles feel simultaneously relieved and annoyed at being handled with kid gloves. He figured the day that the annoyance outweighed the relief would be the day he called his dad on it. It was getting closer, but he wasn't quite to that point yet.

Dad glanced down at his watch and made a face. "I've got to get to work," he said, standing up with obvious reluctance. "Just... remember what we discussed. Don't push yourself too hard. If you don't feel up to staying the whole day, you don't have to. I've talked to the office, they won't give you a hard time about signing out. And if you need me for anything, call, okay?"

"I promise," Stiles said. It was obvious that his dad was at least as nervous about him going back to school as he was. "It's going to be fine," he said for both their sakes. "I'll be fine."

"Of course you will," Dad agreed quickly, quick enough that Stiles knew he'd been worrying about the exact opposite. 

Stiles got up and took the two steps necessary to reach his dad and hugged him again. "Trust me. I've got this."

Dad pulled back and shook his head, more at himself than at Stiles, Stiles thought. "I know you do," he said and this time he didn't sound like he was trying to convince himself. It was enough to pull a smile out of Stiles, all unforced and unbidden.

His dad returned it, clapped him on the shoulder and headed for the door. He paused on the threshold. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"If you don't want to be late you better hurry up and get your butt to school," Dad said, as he had countless other mornings when he was trying to prod Stiles into motion going in the right direction. 

It was such a piece of normality in a life that had been sadly lacking that that Stiles couldn't help but grin widely at it. "Yes, sir," he replied, all but saluting. 

Dad grinned back. "Love ya, kid. I'll see you tonight."

Stiles nodded. "Yep. Love you too."

Once his dad had gone, Stiles gathered up his books and things, grabbed a couple of bananas from the kitchen since he'd promised his dad he'd eat something and they were handy, and headed out to the jeep to drive over to pick up Scott.

Though Scott usually rode his dirt bike to school, they'd decided that this first day back they'd begin their mutual support efforts before they even hit school property and go together in the jeep. It had the added benefit for Stiles of being one more reason he couldn't let himself change his mind about going -- he was Scott's ride.

Scott was waiting outside when he got there and climbed in as soon as Stiles pulled up in front of his house. "I heard the jeep when you turned the corner," he said in way of an explanation for his seeming eagerness.

"Roscoe does have his own unique engine rumble," Stiles said, patting the dashboard affectionately. He glanced over at Scott, giving him a covert once over before pulling back into traffic. He seemed okay, maybe a bit sad, a bit nervous, but nothing that Stiles wasn't experiencing himself. 

He glanced over again when he braked at the next stop sign to try and maybe get a better read on Scott's emotional state, only to catch Scott giving him the exact same once over. Their eyes caught and held for a moment, then they were both chuckling wryly.

"Dude, I'm not going to freak out in the car if you're not," Stiles said as he put the jeep in motion again.

"I'm not going to freak out either," Scott replied then paused. "We can do this," he added, the words dripping with determination.

Stiles nodded sharply. "We can. We've totally got this. As long as, y'know, we try and stagger any freak outs we do have so we're not freaking out simultaneously, we're good."

Scott reached over and clasped Stiles' right hand, intertwining their fingers together and Stiles felt some of his nerves relax at the touch. Ever since the day of the memorial this -- one or the other of them reaching out and taking the other's hand to provide or take comfort -- had become a thing,. 

Stiles didn't think much about it. It should be weird, he knew that it should be weird, but it somehow wasn't. Because it was Scott and it was him and weird didn't really seem to exist between them. So he squeezed Scott's hand back and just kept driving.

They were silent the rest of the way. Stiles was too caught up in not thinking too hard about all the things that could go wrong and he figured Scott was probably doing the same. It was only when they pulled into the school parking lot that Scott let go of his hand and took a deep breath. 

"Ready?" he asked.

"No," Stiles answered honestly, then managed a ghost of a smile. "But when has that ever stopped me?"

Scott reached over and squeezed his shoulder before climbing out of the jeep. Stiles followed, throwing his backpack on and falling into step with his best friend as they headed towards the school entrance, meandering through the other milling students.

They were getting noticed, Stiles could tell. The way conversations seemed to die around them and the way everyone looked away when he happened to accidentally meet anybody's eyes told him so. 

He was never sure if it was him or Scott's footsteps who faltered first, but they were so in synch they both slowed at the same time under the onslaught of all that attention. Stiles had a moment of thinking his dad had been right, that he wasn't ready -- _they_ weren't ready -- but then he looked up and met Scott's gaze, as full of discomfort and worry as Stiles felt, but also filled with the sheer bloody minded determination that Stiles had always admired in him. It was enough to give him the strength to push the doubts and fears back down and start moving again.

It got a little easier after that to ignore the stares and everything as they made their way through the school halls to their lockers. 

"First hurdle successfully cleared," Stiles muttered as he watched Scott open his lock before turning his attention to his own. 

"Yeah," Scott replied, giving Stiles a look that wasn't quite a smile but somehow portrayed the same feeling.

"Though, y'know, it kinda almost makes me wish for the days when no one noticed us at all," Stiles admitted. "Why did we want to be popular again?" Not that Stiles thought they were popular now, exactly, but at least they were on people's radar.

"Because we wanted people to notice us," Scott replied wryly. 

"Yeah, well I've decided that was stupid," Stiles said, which actually pulled a small chuckle out of Scott, so he was counting it as a win. "Come on," he said after unloading the books he didn't need for his first class and locking back up. He swung an arm around Scott's shoulders and pointed him in the direction they needed to go. "We're going to attract enough attention without waltzing into class late."

He didn't miss the way Scott leaned into him for a moment, head turned toward him and nostrils flaring before they started walking again, but he didn't say anything. 

If the added touching up to and including hand holding had become a thing since the memorial, Scott's seemingly being obsessed with his scent had been a thing since the first day after they- ... after. 

At first Scott seemed a little embarrassed by it, but when Stiles hadn't made a big deal out of it, he'd relaxed and became a little more blatant about trying to catch Stiles' scent. Stiles thought he got it even if Scott didn't seem to completely understand. It was probably at least partially a pack thing -- the Alpha reassuring himself that a missing or injured pack member was back and healing, especially when there had been actual losses in the pack. But Stiles figured it was something more than that too, something that was much more intrinsically Scott mixing with werewolfy instincts. He just didn't want to think too closely about what that might entail. 

They were dealing with enough right now. The whole scenting thing definitely was something that could wait until they each had more solid footing back. 

In the meantime, if it helped Scott to occasionally swap clothes with him or let him sniff him, well, those were easy enough things to do.

Their first class was econ with Coach, which Stiles would've felt more nervous considering the whole he got Coach shot with an arrow when possessed thing, if it hadn't been for the brief encounter they'd had with him when they came and got Meredith. Seeing Coach taser that bully of a guard from Eichen House -- and yeah, Stiles had recognized him with one glance, the bastard had sedated him when sleeping could have gotten him killed -- had thankfully left an even greater and more lasting impression than seeing Coach lying on the ground with an arrow in him had. 

For all of the fun they made of the man and the amount of crazy he sometimes spouted (which really, Stiles didn't have much room to point fingers at other people's crazy any more), Coach as an authority figure was turning out to be pretty okay.

Of course the first thing Coach did after setting his mug of coffee down on this desk and turning to face the class was yell, "Stilinski!"

Stiles jumped. "Uh, yeah Coach?" he asked a little warily.

Coach gave him a rather manic looking grin. "Good to have you back."

That hadn't been what he'd been expecting. "Thanks," he said, the word coming out sounding a little more confused than was probably polite.

If Coach noticed -- which Stiles was betting he didn't -- he didn't react, just nodded once and then launched into talking about the last assigned reading.

Stiles found himself thinking maybe this wasn't going to be a total disaster of a day after all.

The rest of the class flew by, even giving Stiles a few minutes of feeling normal -- or as normal as he ever got at least. By the time class was over his spirits had risen considerably.

"That didn't go so bad," he said to Scott as they made their way back to their lockers to switch out books.

"Yeah," Scott agreed, giving him an encouraging smile. "Coach seemed to miss you."

"Well, he noticed I was gone at least, which to be honest, I probably wouldn't have laid money on," Stiles admitted as he opened his locker up. Which was probably not entirely fair of him, but he was used to sort of being under most teachers' radar. And it was only nine months ago or so that Coach had been certain his name was Bilinski so unfair or not, he did have a basis for his reasoning.

"Everyone noticed you were gone," Scott told him, all conviction and earnestness. "There was a definite Stiles shaped hole when you weren't here. I don't think anyone could have missed it."

That made Stiles grin and feel warm at the same time because it was so obvious that Scott believed that. "I'm pretty sure they could have," he replied easily, closing his locker back up after grabbing his history books. He slung an arm around Scott's shoulders. "But that's okay. I don't need everyone to notice I was gone. Just the important people."

Scott got a slightly dopey grin at that. "I always notice when there's a Stiles shaped hole where a Stiles should be." He paused. "When you said important people, you did mean me, right?"

"Yes, Alpha mine, of course I meant you. You're always going to be one of the important people." This, felt normal too -- him and Scott bantering about nonsense really, but with all the feeling they usually don't admit to openly underneath. It made him think that maybe some semblance of normal wasn't as impossibly far off as he'd feared.

Then he walked into the history classroom and got hit in the face with a memory.

He remembered everything that nogitsune had done -- at least until it had split them in two (and that was never not going to be weird) -- but some memories were more prominent than others.

That was his excuse for forgetting that he -- _it_ \-- had been here, in this class room, and what he -- _it_ \-- had done here. 

"Stiles?" Scott's voice jarred him out of the horrified memories and he realized he had stopped dead right in the middle of the doorway. 

"I'm okay," he said quickly, forcing himself back into movement to clear the way for other students. Unfortunately, that movement was back out into the hall and not actually into the class room but small steps. At least he wasn't blocking the way any more.

Scott had followed him back out and was watching him with worried eyes, his hand hovering half extended as if he wanted to touch but wasn't sure if he was allowed. "What happened?"

"Just got blindsided by some memories," Stiles replied, trying to keep his voice casual. He continued but in a much quieter tone, knowing that Scott's werewolf hearing would pick it up, but probably not anybody else. "I'd forgotten that I came here when I was, y'know, not me."

Scott's eyes widened at that and it was obvious that he'd known about the visit and probably the circumstances of it even though they'd never discussed it. "Shit. Yeah. It wanted something from Mr. Yukimura."

"His wife's last tail," Stiles supplied. "Not that he gave it up. Not even when I tortured him." His stomach turned at the memory.

"It wasn't you," Scott said firmly, the same way he always did when Stiles started referring to the nogitsune's actions as his own. 

"I know. I just..." _still feel like it was in some horrible way._ He caught Scott's eye. "You're eventually going to get tired of having to tell me that all the time."

"Nope," Scott replied, all earnest determination. "I'll tell you that for as long as you need to hear it to believe it. No time limits involved."

That pulled a reluctant smile out of Stiles. "God, you're stubborn."

"Only for the best of reasons," Scott told him, smiling back. It faded just as quickly and he asked, "Do you want to skip...?"

"No," Stiles said, not sure of his answer until he'd said it. He took a deep breath and straightened to his full height. "No," he said again. "I can do this. The memories just caught me by surprise. I'm good."

Scott, bless him, didn't try to argue the point or ask if Stiles was sure. He just took him at his word and nodded. "Okay." He paused. "Is there anything I can do?"

"You're already doing it," Stiles told him honestly. Really, having Scott there supporting him helped more than Stiles would ever be able to put into words. "Just... stay close."

"I can do that," Scott said, squeezing his shoulder briefly before letting go and following Stiles as they re-entered the class room.

Most of the desks were full by this time, but there were two near the back just behind where Kira was now sitting. Kira's whole expression lit up when she saw them. She smiled widely, then quickly stopped smiling and looked worried as if she wasn't sure if smiling was an appropriate response. She really was the female equivalent of Scott's level of adorableness, Stiles thought, and it somehow made him feel better. He smiled as Scott took the seat directly behind her and he took the one next to Scott's.

"It's okay," Stiles told her, leaning over to speak to her as she turned around and looked like she was on the verge of turning back without saying anything. "You're allowed to be happy to see us."

Scott nodded earnestly. "Totally," he agreed.

She seemed to relax at that and the smile made a reappearance. "I am, y'know. I've been thinking about you -- both of you -- and wondering if there was anything I could do to help, but then I thought I probably should just give you space instead. But I couldn't stop thinking about you -- not in any stalkery way, I promise, and I'm babbling. See, this is why I thought I should probably give you space because I knew I would do this and probably say something horribly offensive and oh god, please tell me to shut up now."

The stream of words felt very familiar to Stiles and it pulled another, more genuine smile out of him. 

"We're not offended," Scott told her earnestly. "It's okay, really."

"Yeah," Stiles put in. "You haven't really had an opportunity to see me at my best, but I'm a champion babbler. I word vomit all over the place given half a chance. Scott's long ago grown inured to people throwing walls of words at him just by dint of being my best friend."

"It's true," Scott put in. "It's like Stiles' secret weapon. He used to get us out of trouble all the time just by talking so much our parents would forget they were supposed to be punishing us."

That got a small giggle out of Kira. "I don't doubt it. I saw the two of you in action at the police station that one time," she said.

Stiles remembered; it was one of the last good memories he had before he'd realized something else was trying to take control of him. There was always a bit of a thrill when he and Scott managed to verbally dodge an authority figure when they asked questions they weren't ready for the answers for. Even more so because that time his dad had been an appreciative audience instead of the target of their verbal dodge and weave. That... actually might have been the last time Stiles remembered seeing his dad laugh, which made the memory all the more precious.

Not that any of them had been doing much laughing lately.

But that train of thought led to bad thoughts that possibly could induce another panic attack so Stiles hit the metaphorical brakes and derailed it while he could. "Stick with us," he told Kira. "We'll have you baffling them with bullshit with the best of them in no time."

Before Kira could respond, Mr. Yukimura walked in and they all had to turn their attention to the actual class.

The class itself, like econ had been, was a shining beacon of normal in the midst of everything and Stiles threw himself into the work with wholehearted enthusiasm. The time seemed to fly by and before he knew it, class was over and they were gathering up their books to leave. 

Scott hesitated by Kira's desk and Stiles hesitated in turn, waiting for Scott.

"So lunch," Scott said, because that was the next period they had. "Do you want to eat with us?"

"Sure!" Kira said, then paused before continuing, "If that's okay... I don't want to be in the way or anything..."

"You won't be," Scott assured her, and Stiles nodded, backing him up. If anything, Stiles thought, she would be a distraction for both of them, but especially Scott, from who wouldn't be eating lunch with them today.

"Okay." Kira smiled. "Thanks."

They started the three of them towards the door.

"Mr. Stilinski," Mr. Yukimura called just as they were about to make their escape. 

Stiles tensed and turned to face him. He was aware of not only Scott pausing, but Kira as well and that made it easier. Because now that he wasn't actively teaching, facing Mr. Yukimura in this classroom was definitely pulling at those bad memories again.

He swallowed. "Yeah?" he asked trying to keep his voice and face as close to some semblance of normal and not broadcasting, _I'm remembering how I tortured and almost killed you_.

He wasn't sure how well he succeeded but Mr. Yukimura smiled at him. "It's good to see you back at school. You're looking much better."

That... hadn't been what he had expected. But, hell, he'd take it. "Thanks," he said. "I am better. Relatively speaking."

Mr. Yukimura still smiled, but there was something more understanding in his expression as well. "I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need to talk about... Japanese history... with someone who has had some experience with it that I'm here."

And that he had been expecting even less. "Thanks," he said again, knowing his surprise was obvious. "I'll keep that in mind."

Mr. Yukimura nodded to him and again to Kira and Scott behind him before they made their escape from the classroom. 

"Your dad might just be kind of cool," Stiles said to Kira as the three of them walked down the hall.

"I'm not sure cool is the first word I'd choose to describe him, but yeah, he's alright," Kira replied, obviously pleased. 

They all headed to their respective lockers and then met up in the cafeteria at their usual table. 

Even with Kira joining them, it felt empty. 

It seemed to be affecting Scott even more than it did Stiles because he just got quieter and quieter the longer the three of them sat there, trying not to look at the empty spots at the table.

This would generally be where Stiles would start talking and keep up a steady stream of words to a) fill up the silence and, more importantly, b) distract Scott and hopefully cheer him up a little. He just wasn't sure he was up to that at the moment. Still, he was going to give it his best try.

"So, Kira," he began, casting around frantically for a subject that wouldn't nudge into any of the elephants in the room that they were doing their best to ignore. "Being in a class your dad teaches. Slightly awkward or incredibly awkward?"

"It's not that bad, really," Kira replied, picking up the conversational ball Stiles had thrown to her for which he was eternally grateful. "Except for when he tries to help my social life. Then I would have to go with incredibly awkward, in the please can't the floor open up and swallow me kind of way."

"I wouldn't say that too loud," Stiles advised. "This is Beacon Hills, it just might happen."

"What might just happen?" a familiar voice said behind him and Stiles to see Lydia standing there with her lunch tray.

Stiles hadn't seen her since the memorial and even that had been at a distance. He hadn't talked to her at all since that night. He'd thought about calling or texting her, making sure she was all right, but hadn't quite been able to make himself do so. Talking to anyone immediately after had been difficult. Scott was a special case, and even with him, Stiles had almost chosen avoidance over talking. With Lydia... he hadn't been ready.

He was only about 80 percent certain he was ready now. 

Lydia looked... she looked good. She always looked good to Stiles, but still... she looked... put together. Which Stiles knew had more to do with her wearing her persona as an armor against the the opinions of their schoolmates than anything else, but still. He took that as a good sign. 

"The ground opening up and swallowing someone in an embarrassing situation," Stiles said, answering her question.

"Yeah, no, please don't tempt fate," Lydia replied with a shudder. "The last thing we need is an excuse for supernatural sinkholes." She sat down beside Stiles, across the table from Kira. "It's good to see you two back," she said with a warm smile that even a year ago Stiles would have given anything to have be directed his way. Now, as grateful as he was to count Lydia as a friend and see her smile at him, he couldn't help but see the sadness behind it.

A line from a pop song drifted through his head: _Look for the girl with the broken smile_. That was what Lydia's smile reminded him of now. 

But still, he couldn't be any less brave than her. "Thanks," he said, matching slightly broken smile with a slightly broken smile of his own. "It's good to be back. Mostly." 

Her smile got a bit warmer and a bit wobblier and she reached out to briefly squeeze Stiles' hand. They were all trying and reaching out to hold on to what they had left. It was that kind of thing that made him think that even if things weren't okay now and would never be the same kind of okay they had been, that maybe they could reach a new definition of okay with time.

"How are you doing?" Scott asked Lydia, with his earnest concerned expression, using it to mask his own pain as effectively as Lydia used her bitch queen persona to mask hers, Stiles knew. 

That got Scott his own wobbly broken smile sent his way. "As well as could be expected," she said and Stiles could almost hear the quotation marks around it. 

One side of Scott's mouth turned up in a half grin. "Yeah, there's a lot of that going around."

"There's something I need to tell you though," she continued. "Guess who's started school here?"

Scott and Stiles exchanged confused looks. "I give," Stiles said. "Who?" 

Just then Scott's head shot up and he stared at something behind Stiles. Stiles turned around quickly, eyes scanning for what Scott had seen...

"No way," he breathed and then he was scrambling to his feet to dash across the room to where the newcomer was standing holding a lunch tray. 

"Malia!" he called as he got close, slowing just out of reach, suddenly unsure exactly how he should be greeting her. "You're okay! And you're here!" 

And apparently his brain decided to go with stating the obvious, he mentally face palmed.

But Malia just smiled at him. "Yes I am. And so are you. It's good to see you, Stiles."

"It's good to be seen," he replied and it was almost a hundred per cent the truth. "I owe you... something. An apology for my crazy almost getting you killed, thanks for getting the sword and information to Scott... I don't know which to lead with."

"I'll take both as given," she said. "I'm... glad it helped."

"It did," Stiles told her. "A lot." He reached out to tug on her arm but didn't actually let himself complete the gesture. This wasn't someone he knew well enough yet to know if random touching like that was something allowed. "Come on," he said, turning the reach into a 'come here' gesture. "You can come sit with us to eat lunch."

"All right," she said. She followed him back to the table and took the seat at the end, which put her between him and Scott, who gave her one of his genuine smiles when she sat down.

"Hi," he said. "Welcome to school." It would probably have sounded patronizing coming from anyone else, but this was Scott and Scott was just able to say things like that and have them come out sounding heartfelt instead.

"It's strange," Malia said in reply. "There's a lot of people who stare at me. A lot. But I'm learning."

"Told you you would," Stiles told her, pointing at her with a fry. Malia looked at him then reached over and took the fry out of his hand.

"There's other lessons I need to learn though," she said, over Stiles' indignant squawk. "Things they don't teach here."

"I know," Scott acknowledged. "I remember my promise. We can start lessons whenever you want."

Malia looked at Scott for a long moment, then at Stiles and back again. "Only if you're ready," she said. "I've waited this long. I can wait a little longer."

Stiles, who knew how much regaining her ability to change meant to Malia stared at her at that. That was a huge concession from her and he wondered how bad he and Scott had to look for her to make it.

He saw Scott send a glance his way then turn his attention back to Malia. "Maybe not for a couple of days?" he admitted. "Give Stiles and me a chance to get back into the swing of school and stuff. But... you can come over to my place this weekend and we can start?"

"That would be fine," Malia said. She turned her attention back to Stiles. "You'll be there?" she asked, much to Stiles' surprise.

"Yes," Scott answered for him. Because really, there wasn't much time that the two of them weren't spending together lately.

"But not if you don't want me to be," Stiles put in. "I can make myself scarce for the whole grr lesson."

"No," Malia said, very firm and decisive. "I want you there."

"Okay," Stiles agreed, easily enough. "Scott's the expert on this, but sure. I'll be there."

"Don't sell yourself short," Scott told him. "You taught me a lot about controlling the change after all."

Which, okay, was the truth, but that had been mostly just him trying things and hoping they'd work. "I don't think Malia would want me to use the same kind of methods I used on you though," he pointed out.

Malia looked curious at that. Actually, so did Kira and Lydia, and Stiles realized none of them knew about some of their earliest chapters in so your best friend's a werewolf adventure as Stiles had months ago dubbed that period of time. "Scott's problem was different to Malia's now," he explained to all three of them. "It wasn't that he couldn't change, it was that he couldn't _control_ it when he did. Or control himself after he changed. He even tried to kill me once in the locker room."

"Stiles shot me in the face with a fire extinguisher," Scott said with a fond smile shot Stiles' way. "He also handcuffed me to my radiator in my room my second full moon."

Stiles snorted. "For all the good that did. You still got out. It took Derek to bring you to heel that night. Which... we really should ask him for his advice with Malia's problem." He hadn't talked to Derek since that night either nor did he think Scott had.

"I will," Scott agreed. 

"Just... don't talk to Peter about it," Lydia blurted out.

Stiles turned to look at her in puzzlement. "Why would we voluntarily talk to Peter about anything unless there was no other choice? Though if you have more reasons why we shouldn't beyond the obvious reasons of him being a manipulative son of a bitch and probably a sociopath, I'd love to hear them."

"No, just those reasons," Lydia said, but Stiles could tell she was lying. 

He wasn't the only one, he could tell by the way Scott was looking at her. "Lydia? What is it?"

"Nothing," Lydia said sharply, then shook her head and seemed to deliberately relax from her defensive posture. "Well, it's something, but... I'm not ready to talk about it. Not now and not here."

Stiles frowned. "Is it a dangerous something?"

She hesitated. "Not imminently so. But... maybe it could lead to danger eventually, yes."

"But not like, this week?" Stiles pressed because please god, no. They needed a break. _He_ needed a break.

"Not this week," Lydia confirmed. "Probably not next week either. I'd tell you immediately if I thought otherwise, I promise."

That... would have to do because trying to get Lydia to talk before she was ready.... well it could be done, but Stiles didn't have the energy or the stamina right now to get her to.

"No telling Peter," Scott promised. "But we're going to have to talk about whatever this is eventually, you know."

"I know," Lydia said. "And I will. Just... not yet."

Kira spoke up then before an awkward silence could fall. "I'd like to hear more about how Stiles helped Scott with his control. Is there more to the story?"

Scott went easily enough with the subject change, though Stiles knew Scott wasn't going to forget about the Peter and Lydia thing any more than he was. "He tied up my hands with duct tape and then pelted me with lacrosse balls," Scott said.

Stiles grinned. Scott was his best friend, his bro and always had been, but there had been enough tension between them that there had been a certain amount of catharsis in that particular method of training. "Good times," he said. Catharsis or not, compared to the last month, they really had been.

The look Malia was shooting him had Stiles scrambling to clarify, "Not that that's going to be something we'd do with you."

"Of course not," Scott chimed in.

"At least not at first," Stiles added honestly because really? He could see where something of the sort might be a way to help Malia get a grip on being able to shift when she wanted to later on.

Lydia rolled her eyes at him. "As you can see," she said to Malia, "you're not the only socially awkward one at this table."

"It's okay," Malia said. "I hit him when he first came up to me at Eichen House so I probably owe him one."

That had everyone looking at Stiles questioningly. "She wasn't happy about not being a coyote anymore," he explained. "No big. We worked through it. Trust me when I say that meeting Malia again was the best thing about being in that place." He wasn't even counting their probably ill advised make out session in the basement though he was always going to remember that moment fondly. It had been a brief glimpse of comfort at a time he desperately had needed it. But even without that, just having had someone there who was willing to help him instead of threatening to kill him would have made him grateful for Malia's presence.

She smiled at him, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. "You too." Which Stiles wasn't as sure about since he had almost gotten her killed via _a drill to the head_ , but it was still nice to hear.

"Thanks," he said, returning the smile.

His attention was drawn back to his best friend when Scott abruptly stood up. "Scotty?" he asked, making the name a question on its own.

"We've got to go," Scott said, looking antsy and uncomfortable. And miserable. "We've got that... thing... we need to do before next class, remember?"

Scott was also still a terrible liar. But Stiles played along gamely. If Scott wanted him to leave with him right now, he'd do so, no questions asked. "Yeah, right," he said, standing and gathering his stuff. "The... _thing_. Yeah, we should get right on that." He turned to the girls. "Sorry to eat and run, but y'know, places to go, .... _things_ to do..."

Scott had already turned and left the table and Stiles had to scramble to catch up and then scramble to keep up as Scott was walking pretty fast and didn't seem inclined to slow down. He led Stiles down several hallways until he found an empty classroom then ducked inside. Stiles followed, and after a second's thought, locked the door behind him.

He then turned and watched Scott pace the room. He reminded Stiles a little too much of a caged animal, although he showed no signs of wolfing out at least. Stiles had no idea what was happening. "Scott? Buddy?" he began cautiously. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Scott stopped moving then and stared at Stiles. He still seemed agitated, but there was a layer of confusion over it now. "I... I don't... It was just suddenly too much. I had to get out of there." He moved towards Stiles but stopped an arm's length away. "Can I...?"

"Whatever you need, buddy," Stiles said instantly, taking a step towards him. Scott closed the distance between them and wrapped himself around Stiles, burying his face in Stiles' neck and taking a deep breath. 

Scenting him.

There was something he was missing here, something that was on the tip of his brain, something to do with the scenting. He tried to think it through.

He had figured the scenting would probably gradually stop over time, but so far it seemed like the exact opposite was happening. Whenever Scott would get agitated or upset, Stiles would find himself getting sniffed, whether it had anything to do with him or not. And it always seemed to calm Scott down. Stiles was starting to feel like a security blanket or....

_Oh._

"Scott?" he asked carefully, even as he wrapped his arms around Scott.

"Yeah?" The word came out muffled as it was spoken into the side of Stiles' neck.

"How long have I been your anchor?"

Scott froze, then pulled back quickly, staring at Stiles with wide eyes. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but no words came out.

It was so typical Scott in a panic that Stiles couldn't help the half smile that pulled his own mouth up at the sides. "You didn't realize," he said.

Scott shook his head slowly, still staring at Stiles with eyes wide enough for an anime character.

"But I'm right. Aren't I?" He framed it in the form of a question, but it really wasn't.

Scott nodded his head just as slowly. "I'm sorry," he said. "My mom said I should be my own anchor and she's right, I should. I tried, I really did, but then Allison.... and I almost lost you too, but I didn't and I just..." He trailed off and looked at Stiles miserably. "I didn't mean to."

"Hey, no," Stiles said, reaching out to grasp Scott's shoulder and shake him gently. "Don't apologize. After everything that's happened, it kinda makes sense. I get it. I'm not mad or anything. On the contrary, really. It's actually kinda flattering that you'd still trust me enough to-"

"Of course I trust you," Scott interrupted. "Stiles, there's no one I trust more than you." He gave a half shrug. "Obviously. You're not still thinking we don't, are you?"

"No," Stiles said, then grimaced and added, "Mostly. It's a work in progress?"

"I can accept that." Scott looked at him earnestly. "You really okay with my making you my anchor?"

"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?" Okay, it had been kind of shocking that instant when he realized that was what was happening, but Stiles was already adjusting. It made him feel good in a way that he hadn't felt in a long time. More than loved. More even than trusted. It made him feel _essential_.

"I don't know," Scott replied, looking adorably confused as he shrugged. "It just seems... kind of a big deal."

"It is," Stiles agreed easily. "And it isn't. It would be if it was anybody else. But Scott, you're my best friend. I'm always going to do whatever I have to, to pull you back from the brink, you know that. This," he gestured between them, like this new addition to their relationship was a visible bond, "is just formalizing that. So don't stress yourself out about this okay?"

The confusion had lifted from Scott's expression as Stiles had talked. "Okay," he said, nodding. 

"Besides, it's not like you don't do the same for me," Stiles continued. "I mean, with a hundred percent less wolf outs, but..." He met Scott's eyes and held them as he continued. "You help keep me together when I'm two seconds away from losing it. You help me pick up the pieces and put them back together when I do lose it. You always have."

Scott was grinning at him now. "So you're saying I'm your anchor too."

"Well, in a less werewolfy, more human basket case sort of way, but yeah," Stiles said which got him a stern look from Scott.

"You're not a basket case," he said. "You just... have things you're dealing with."

"Yeah, okay." Stiles quirked a half smile at him and threw an arm over Scott's shoulders. "But I totally would be a basket case or worse without you, so yeah. The anchor thing goes both ways."

"I can live with that if you can," Scott said as he turned his head and tried to subtly sniff Stiles again.

Stiles held perfectly still to make it easier for him. "So the compulsive sniffing is going to keep being a thing, huh?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, probably," Scott said, blushing a little as he pulled back again. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles said and reached up to ruffle Scott's hair fondly. "I'll just have to be extra vigilant about practicing good hygiene, less my eau de Stiles prove too overwhelming."

Scott snorted laughter and Stiles felt the last of the weird tension Scott had been holding go out of him. "Better?" he asked, tightening his grip on Scott's shoulders.

Scott nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. I'm doing my job as anchor and best friend then."

That earned him a smile and a full on genuine Scott McCall hug (which had always been right up there with Dad hugs on the awesome comfort scale). "You always do," Scott said.

"I try," Stiles replied with a lop sided grin. He pushed down the dark memories of twisting a sword while Scott begged. That was then and this was now and he _was_ trying, damn it. He was going to be the best damned anchor any werewolf had ever had. 

Scott deserved nothing less.

Scott glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Period's almost over. We'll have to get moving or we're going to be late for English."

"Yeah." Stiles looked Scott over critically. "You good to go?"

Scott seemed to take inner stock before answering. "Yeah. You?"

Stiles paused to take his own inner stock and was surprised at what he found. For pretty much the first time all day he was feeling like he was standing on firm ground and not on a ledge he was waiting to crumble out from under him. 

"Yeah," he replied. "I think I really am."

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://fwolfling.tumblr.com/) if you want to come and say hi.


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